A Moment A Memory

A Moment A Memory

A Poem by Pointblank

In my car waiting for the light

The sweet smell of a honeysuckle vine

Wafted through the night

My window was down

The cool breeze blew in

It was a familiar feeling

Cool against my skin

Suddenly I was sitting by the sea

On a moonlight night

My man beside me

Cuddled close to block the wind

He kissed my forehead

Then my chin

He said I smelled as sweet

As a honeysuckle vine

Then asked me softly

“Will you forever be mine?”

Cars were passing

The light had changed

That moment in time

Is always the same

The feeling and words

Recalling the smell

Brings that old memory

And a story to tell.

PB 5/6/08

© 2008 Pointblank


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Reviews

This detailed poem is a moment held captive- the becoming of desire, caught in essence of thought-
while waiting at the light, letting the mind wander, being taken to another place and time, where
romance exists in perfect shades of harmony, moonlight skies casting magic over the hearts of lovers,
as wave break upon the shore of solace with sentimental force, how memories carry the heart away
beautifully envisioned with a sense of understanding the meaning of dreaming. thanks for sharing

Posted 16 Years Ago


Ahh memories!! The smell of the inside of a school brings me back to my childhood. But yes, some things take us to loves and moments of love as well. How does that happen? Where in the mind is that association? There's the puzzle of this...memory and the senses that keep it there inside you somewhere. Nice write about reliving the dreams of our lives. Take care.

Posted 16 Years Ago


I enjoyed this, as it triggered memories of my own. It is amazing how our senses are tied into our memories, and how they can take us back in time. It oft happens just as it did here, that trigger and you are lost to that memory, only to return to the present - the memory becoming a memory again.

Posted 16 Years Ago



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Added on May 6, 2008

Author

Pointblank
Pointblank

NC



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--------------------------------------------------------------------- So much has changed. Even the poems Ive written seem so foreign to me. I've come back to write again and found an emptyness of.. more..

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